


Trench

by kroas_adtam



Category: Trench - Twenty One Pilots (Album), Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Adventure, Amnesia, Captivity, M/M, Slow Burn, Warnings May Change, inspired by Chlorine, tags will change, trench
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-08-09 14:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16451966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kroas_adtam/pseuds/kroas_adtam
Summary: How many days had he been there? How many times had he heard the voices sing to him? How many times had he bellowed back?When was he getting out?Updated every Monday 5pm central time





	1. Day 363

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363

Tyler counted the jagged lines with his eyes for the third time that day. His eyebrows pulled together for a second as he searched in his tired mind. It was still the 363rd day, right? He turned his sore neck to look out the window. The rock was still in the same place. It was still the 363rd day.

Why was he counting days again?

He looked back to the carved lines on the stone wall of his room. No, wait, his cell.

Pieces of memories, jagged as the lines his nails had carved, flashed, determined to keep him Tyler. Determined to keep him in tact. There was a group, a boy with neon yellow… yellow, the color of the sun, something that was his only friend now.

_Focus, Tyler._

He closed his tired eyes, trying to focus and hold on to the memories. The blurred face of a boy with yellow hair, the smell of smoke, the sounds of yelling. They were reaching for each other. In the dark of his cell, eyes closed, Tyler’s weak arm  raised to the air, hoping to feel the fingertips of the yellow haired boy.

Why couldn’t he remember his face? Why couldn’t he remember his name?

“ _Subject 96723, what are you doing?”_

The buzzer and distorted voice made him jump. He opened his eyes and turned to look at the small blacked out window that was opposite the window of freedom. Something he was starting to wonder if he ever had.

“ _Rest. You have much work to do in the hours of the morning.”_

Tyler turned his head back to stare at the marks on the wall.

363 tallies.

363 days.

363 experiments.

363 chemicals trying to break him down.

Tyler’s body was sore, everything hurt. They had long stopped using his veins to pump in the venom that was trying to destroy him. They were using other parts of him. His neck, his legs, his hands, his chest, his groin, his spine.

How was he still alive?

 _Why_ was he still alive?

They had threatened to take his fingertips so he couldn’t carve the day numbers into the wall. He had such a strong reaction that they used it as leverage. Any time he refuses to be still, they threaten his hands.

Tyler’s hands.

He touched his fingertips together and closed his eyes. They were still rough and the texture of the callouses reminded him of something he used to love. Metal, different thicknesses, but something he loved and would do until his fingers bled and became rough.

What was it called again?

He searched the fuzzy dark recesses of his abused brain, hoping, praying that the answer was still there.

_Music._

Once the word came back, so did an explosion of memories with the yellow haired boy. But he still didn’t have a face. He still didn’t have a name. Tyler sat up and scratched at the wall, ignoring the warnings of the person who was monitoring him. He knew at this point, they wouldn’t take his hands. They needed them for something. So he kept scratching, carving, ignoring the pain of the flecks of rock jamming under his black and dirty fingernails.

The door to his cell slammed open and four masked men came right for him.

“No!” Tyler yelled, his voice rough from disuse, he struggled as three of them pulled him away from the wall, the fourth checking the volume of a serum in the syringe he was holding. “No, I don’t want it! I don’t want it! I DON’T WANT IT!” He screamed at the top his lung, shouting in pain as the fourth man plunged the sedative straight into his neck.

The four men dropped him carelessly on the bed as Tyler’s body forcibly went limp. They left him like that all the time. Weak, breaking, and unwanted. He couldn’t move any of is muscles. He was forced to stare at the ceiling as tears slipped out the side of his eyes and into his dirty dark brown hair.

“What was he even doing? It’s not a new day.” One mask asked.

Another leaned in to see what Tyler was scratching into the wall.

“Seems we may need to do something more drastic to get rid of his memories.” Replied another.

They walked away, leaving Tyler alone in the cell, with 363 marks on the wall, and a hasty word that would lay by his head.

 _Music_.

 

“ _Can you build my house--”_

Tyler jerked awake. He was regaining some use of his limbs from the sedative, he managed to fall out of the cot that was his bed and staggered over to the big hole in the wall that was his window. It had no glass, it had no bars, but he was many stories above the ground. Infact, his cell jutted over a cliff. At point he guessed they placed him in there because he was the most likely one to escape.

Tyler leaned on the version of a windowsill and let his head hang out the window. The cold air whipped around him. He inhaled as deeply as he could. The only time they weren’t watching him, the only time he was allowed to feel the cold air sting his lungs was at night. He loved the way the wind felt on his face, but tonight, he needed it to be still. He needed to hear it again.

As if someone was listening, the wind stilled. A few flecks of snow drifted down and landed delicately in Tyler’s filthy hair as he listened.

“Come on, come on, please…” He whispered, closing his eyes, trying to hear it, hoping he wasn’t too late.

Silence.

His heart squeezed, his hands started to shake. “Please, please, please…” He all but sobbed. He rested his head on the stone window and started to cry. “No, no, no…”

 _“Can you build my house in pieces?”_ The echo resounded out from the mountains. Tyler snapped up, relief touching his soul.

“I’m just a chemical.” He whispered.

 _“Can you build my house in pieces?”_ The echo was stronger, the voice was getting closer.

He strained his eyes to see in the dark, whispering the response to himself. Once he spotted what he was looking for, his heart broke into a race.

A line of fire was appearing at the base of the cliff, hundreds of torches, little lights, Tyler didn’t know how far down they were, but there they were.

**_“CAN YOU BUILD MY HOUSE IN PIECES?”_ **

The words harmoniously bellowed around the compound like church bells on a day of mourning. Tyler was sobbing now, knowing they were waiting for him.

“I’M JUST A CHEMICAL,” He shouted back, he was panting from adrenaline when he heard five other voices in the compound shout back the same words. He could have collapsed right then and there.

He wasn’t the only one left.

It was day 363.

The Men in Red hadn’t destroyed them all.


	2. Day 364

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ones and Zeros.  
> A mutual sign for trust.
> 
> Not everyone is mutually trusted.

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Joshua stared at the new tally he just wrote down on the piece of cardboard on the table in front of him.

“364 days.” He said, looking up to the twelve other faces in front of him. Some looked concerned, some hopeful, some given up. “They’ve been in there for three hundred and sixty-four days. They’re down to six voices. Six of them are still aware.”

“Josh…” said his right hand, Jenna, who was just as determined to get The Others out of Dema. “The Bishops are reaching their year mark, the six that are still aware won’t be around much longer. They’ll kill them before we can get them out.”

“Well.” Josh said, straightening his back, his eyes hard as they glinted in the firelight. “Then we get them out tonight.” Murmurs of doubt and worry flickered through the twelve. “I have a plan,” Josh said, going over to his bunk and pulling out a notebook. “But it’s dangerous, and I will need to do it alone, with you guys on the outside.”

Jenna’s eyes went wide, “Josh, you’re not serious.You can’t be suggesting--”

“I gotta get him out, Jen. And going back in is the only way.”

“They’ll kill you!” She yelled, stepping out of line, approaching him with a look of worry and anger on her face. “You’re the leader of the camp, you can’t seriously abandon us for  _ him--” _

Josh slammed his fist on the table, causing Jenna to stagger back to her place in line. “Tyler is the person who got all of us out! Tyler is the one who saved one hundred and thirteen of us! His voice is getting quieter, the Men In Red are getting him and I won’t allow that! We all owe him, Jenna. Every single one of our sorry asses is alive thanks to Tyler Joseph. If any of you think you’re better than him, if any of you think your life means more to me than his, then you can get the fuck out of my camp and take your chances in the forest!” He glared at the twelve faces and waited for their abandonment.

Troy, Josh’s number two, stepped forward and held out his fist. “For Bandito.” Josh felt a little relief and pressed his fist to Troy’s; the rest added theirs to Josh’s.

“For Bandito.” They all murmured. Josh glanced at Jenna who was staring at him, trying to read something in Josh’s eyes.

“I’ll draw up the plans, come back in before dawn.” He said, dismissing them, looking back his notebook. 

This is how their camp went. They tallied every new day at midnight. Two hours after going to the compound to count The Others. He wrote down the number 6 on the top of his notebook and sighed, rubbing his forehead. They’ve lost 31 since Tyler got them out. They’ve  been out for three months. 31 people gave in to the Men In Red.

“If you’re gonna stay, at least help me with this.” Josh said, not looking up, knowing Jenna was still in there.

She sighed and walked around to stand next to him. “Bandito means the world to us Josh, but so do you. Don’t risk us for him.”

“Jenna. Help, or leave.”

“Josh, he’s been in there too long, he might not even remember you, or me, or any of us. He cries back because it’s habit, but who knows if he knows why anymore.”

“As long as I hear his voice, I refuse to believe he doesn’t remember us.” He held up the notebook to her. “Are these schematics correct?” She sighed and took a look. Josh chewed on the skin around his fingernails, thinking of all the possibilities of what was going to happen. He was trying to think of the last time the escape alarm had blasted through the mountains. When was the last time Tyler had the strength to try and get out?

“These are mostly correct,” She reached over and took his makeshift pencil, adjusting some areas. “Don’t forget, Nico put Bandito in here for a reason. He’s constantly observed.”

“At night he’s not,” Josh muttered, looking over her corrections. Jenna had been forced to be Nico’s experiment, she knew Dema like the back of her hand.

Jenna’s jaw was set as she watched their leader. “He’s dying, Josh. The Bishops—“

“Don’t call them that.” Josh snapped, glaring at her. “We call them The Men In Red. We call it the Compound. We do not give respect to the monsters that stole our lives. We do not utter their names. We fight, in any way we can. Tyler taught us that. Or have you forgotten?” She was on his last nerve and on her last strike. This wasn’t the first time she had blatantly disrespected Tyler and undermined Josh.

“You’re too close, Josh.” She said after a moment of quiet. “Let me do this. Let Troy do it. Anyone but you. We need you here.”

“No.” He said with finality. He looked at her with a hard expression that took her aback. Distrust.

“Return to your tent. You’ll watch the camp. I don’t need you for this.” He made a motion with his hand. “I don’t want to see you until dawn.”

Jenna gave him an incredulous look before storming out and heading straight to Troy’s tent.

“What the hell is his problem?! You know what the problem is, the problem is Tyler!”

“Jenna, watch yourself.”

“No! He’s willing to risk this entire camp, all of us, for  _ Tyler!” _

“If I recall, you were in it for Tyler at one point, too.” Troy said, gathering his supplies.

“That’s not--!” She stopped her angry pacing to yell more pointedly at Troy.

“Not what, relevant? Are you sure? Because it sounds pretty fucking relevant to me.” Troy yelled back. They were probably waking up the rest of the camp, but fuck if Troy cared. “Aren’t  _ you _ the one that was there to blindly follow Bandito’s orders when all of us were scared? Aren’t  _ you _ the one that practically  _ volunteered  _ to serve the Men in Red?”

“The Bishops have--”

“DAMN IT, STOP CALLING THEM THAT!” Troy bellowed. The general murmur that was white noise in the camp hushed. “You may be Josh’s right hand man, but I am his left hand. I’m here to take over when you crack. And Jenna,” He pulled his rusack onto his back. “You’re cracking.”

  
“Your yelling could have woken the entire camp.” Josh muttered, trying to memorize the map of the compound, running his fingers through his messy hair.

“Sorry, Josh.” Troy said, dropping his rusack next to Josh’s. “I brought you some of my climbing gear.”

“She’s really cracking, hmm?” Josh asked, glancing up.

“She needs to go back to civilization, I think. She’s getting too wrapped up in the play, here. She and the others who can, should go back, I think.” Troy said, laying it out for Josh. “We have too many people and not enough time. If we’re getting Bandito out tonight, the M-I-R will come for us without hesitation. The less casualties, the better.”

Josh was leaning back in his chair, studying Troy. “And you think she’s the right person to get them out?”

“No,” Troy said truthfully. “I think Callie is. But Jenna won’t go if she thinks she’s not in charge.”

“So what do you suggest?”

“Let Callie take them, but make Jenna believe she’s leading.”

“I don’t trust her, anymore, Troy.”

Troy nodded. “I’m aware. Which is why I believe we should plant Joe and Andy as guards. They’ll keep an eye on her, and make sure she’s not trying to divert the group.”

“Divert?” Josh asked, his eyebrows raising.

Troy gnawed on his lip for a moment. “Josh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“No, please explain.”

Troy sighed. “I believe… And this is just my suspicion… I think the M-I-R planted her. I think… I think she gave in to Nico.”

Josh thought for a minute, studying Troy’s expression.

“Then she doesn’t go with the crowd. She comes with us. I need to keep an eye on her.”

“Are you sure that’s the best route.”

“No.” Josh sighed. “But it’s the best we’ve got.”

Troy stepped forward and held out his fist to Josh. “Ones and Zeros.”

Josh pressed his knuckles to Troy’s. “Ones and Zeros.”

  
“Troy!” Jenna caught up with his through the bustling paths of the camp, everyone preparing, tearing down tents, erasing the proof of their habitation. If they could hide where they had been, the Men In Red couldn’t find where they’d be. Troy looked at her, trying not to let the distrust show on his face.

“Hey, are you ready? Is your tent down and mark buried?”

“Yes, all of that, listen, I’m not going with the group, I’m going to the compound.”

“I know.” Troy said, looking over his checklist.

“I thought Josh was going to toss me into the group leaving, but it seems like he still trusts me. I’m just hoping I can help as much as I need him to, I mean I just--”

“Jenna, stop. Okay? We’re very busy, go get your supplies and go discuss your part with Josh.”

“Oh right, duh.” She took off towards Josh’s tent, which would be the last one to stand until the groups separated. “Josh!”

“Shush.” Josh said, holding up a finger. “Out. I’ll call you in in a moment.”

She huffed and went out.

“You don’t want her in here?” Andy asked, looking at Joe then back to Josh.

“We have a bit of a… personnel issue. I’m being very particular with what I share these days. Anyway, you two understand the severity of the situation?”

“You still haven’t told us who we’re looking out for.”

Josh glanced towards the tent flaps. “She won’t be with you.”

Andy and Joe looked at each other then back at Josh. They held out their fists. Josh pressed his to theirs.

“Ones and zeros.” Said the two guards. Josh nodded.

“Ones and zeros.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll morph to someone else
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> feed the beast


	3. Temporary Hiatus

Extra temporary hiatus:

 

I'm trying to focus on one project at a time.

 

Don't worry once Part 1 of G & S is over, i will solely focusing on this writing project.

 

I haven't forgotten about it, I'm just trying to keep from getting overwhelmed; my brain does that when I'm writing two different plot lines.

 

Love you all, I promise to be back with this as soon as I can!

**Author's Note:**

> hi comments feed me pls feed the beast
> 
> Inspired by the song Chlorine, off the new album Trench.


End file.
